by Tessa Candle
Rutherford’s eyes locked with Delville’s, who understood in a moment the dilemma. His friend needed him. Delville turned and ran to the window, squeezing out into the chill night air and scanning the surrounding land for the fleeing demoness and her henchman.
Chapter 33
Eleanor sat between Rosamond and her father in the breakfast parlour. This room was the smallest and easiest to heat quickly, so they had sought refuge in it while the servants cleaned the glass and debris from the grand salon.
Delville entered and looked at them all, without really seeming to see them. His face was as deadly serious as she had ever seen it.
He asked Rosamond, “How is Tilly?”
“I believe she is as well as she can be, under the circumstances. The doctor has been summoned, and Rutherford is with her—despite her attempts to send him away.” Rosamond gestured for him to sit, but he paced the room.
Everyone was in shock, and her own nerves were far from calm, but Eleanor did not like the level of agitation she detected in Delville. “Did anyone find Mack?”
“No.” Delville muttered something inaudible under his breath, and strode to stir up the fire with violent jabs. “They were already in their carriage by the time I arrived at the scene. Like a bacon-brain, I gave chase on foot until the end of the drive. But they were not waiting about for me, and I realized it was a fool’s errand. I came back and rounded up some of Rutherford’s men at arms to go after them. But the witch has such a lead that I am not optimistic. And she took Mack with her. God I hope…” His voice trailed off and he stared for a few moments at the poker in his hand. “Are any of the men we subdued still alive?”
“One.” Her father gave him an appraising look. “Your poker took care of the rest of them, but I suppose there is no accounting for an extra thick skull. The housekeeper has some experience with bandaging heads, however.”
“Quite.” Delville’s voice was humourless. “Where is Frobisher?”
“He is checking on Persephone.” Rosamond pursed her lips. “He insisted that it was too dangerous for me to come with him, and that I should stay here under guard. He sent word to Fenimore to summon more men. He will arrange protection for the entire perimeter of the house and a guard for the one survivor. Not that the patient is likely to stir. He is convalescing now, and when the doctor arrives, he will be seen to, but he is in no state to answer questions.”
Delville shook his head, as if suddenly coming to his senses. He moved to stand before Eleanor. “I should have asked first—forgive me. I am not myself. He looked from her to Rosamond. Are you both well?”
Rosamond grinned. “You know me well enough to know that it takes more than a fisticuffs to disturb me. And I have not a scratch.”
Eleanor caught his eye and smiled at him, but the face that returned her gaze looked tortured. “I am very well. Please do not worry yourself on my account.”
Eleanor’s father spoke up, his bushy brows drawn. “My daughter omits to mention that she had two shards of glass removed from her arm.”
Eleanor bit her lip and smoothed the fresh glove she had put on over the bandage. She wished her father would keep his blasted mouth shut. Could he not see how distraught Delville was already?
Delville drew a hand over his face. “Miss Dawling, I beg your forgiveness. I hope you are not in too much pain.”
“None in the least, I assure you. Mere scratches.” They hurt like the blazes, but no one would ever get Eleanor to admit it. She had to get him out of this mope, make him understand he was not to blame. “And there is nothing to forgive. This is not your doing, Delville.”
“But it is my fault.” Delville’s guilt hung over his features like a pall.
“Young man,” Her father stood and looked Delville in the eye, “her injuries would have been much greater were it not for your rapid intervention. It gives me no pleasure to admit that an old cheese like me is not in any condition to protect ladies from violent criminals, but I shudder to think what might have happened if you had not come in when you did.”
The look Delville gave her father broke Eleanor’s heart, and his voice sounded hollow as he replied, “Your grace, I know I should not confess this as it is so wholly against my interest to do so, but those violent criminals would not have ever come here, were it not for me. I deserve none of the honour you have so kindly bestowed.”
“I hope you will call me Grendleridge, Mr. Delville.”
Deville swallowed and looked miserable. “Thank you, Grendleridge. I hope you will call me Delville.”
Her father nodded. “I can see what you are feeling, Delville. Despite my current decrepitude, I was once a man of action like yourself, so I know something of these matters. It pains me to admit it now, but I judged you to be a worthless bounder. I was wrong and I beg your pardon. A man must do many things in the service of his country, things with which a gentleman would not ordinarily sully his hands. As I understand it, those yahoos came here because of your work for the good of England, and because you rescued a little girl from their grasp. You must not lay their evil deeds upon your own conscience.”
Delville shook his head in disbelief and looked as though he was about to reply, when Frobisher’s return interrupted the moment. Delville and Rosamond went to him immediately.
“Is Persephone safe?” They both spoke at once.
“Delville, you are back. Good. Yes, she is well and sleeping. I placed two servants in her chamber and three guards under her window, just to be certain.”
“Excellent.” Rosamond exhaled. “Now that my overprotective husband has made everything secure, if you will all excuse me, I will go check on Tilly.”
When she left, Delville asked Frobisher, “Do you suppose it would be too much of an imposition upon Rutherford, if our whole party stayed here this night, and perhaps for some days? I know he has invited Miss Dawling and her father, but if he could extend the invitation... I do not like to think of Persephone and Rosamond travelling even the short distance back to Fenimore.”
Eleanor’s heart warmed. He was such a good man, so concerned for everyone’s safety. It was maddening to hear him sound so grave, however. She hated that he was mentally punishing himself for everything that had happened.
Frobisher chuckled. “I think you could scarcely escape spending at least the night here. Rutherford practically ordered me not to let anyone leave. He is determined that we shall all stay, as it is the best way to protect everyone from harm.”
Delville nodded. “I agree. The women should stay. Blackwood can be more readily made a fortress, and Rutherford does act as the local magistrate, after all.”
Their tones became more hushed, and Eleanor wished she could hear their tête-à-tête. It was selfish, but she wondered if they were speaking of what had just transpired between Delville and her father. She could scarcely believe it, herself. Her arm might be killing her, and her nerves might be shattered, but the events of the evening had cast Delville in a favourable light in her father’s eyes. She could not help smiling.
Her father patted her uninjured arm and gave her a teasing look, whispering. “I can see you are congratulating yourself. I suppose I should not encourage such hubris, but I do intend to consent to the match, if you are still determined to have him.”
“Thank you, Papa. I have not changed my mind, even if his score with the fire poker was only three for four. As you are in such an obliging mood, suppose we invite my sister to come to the wedding.”
“Colette?” He frowned. “Eleanor, do not even jest about such a thing.”
“I am in earnest. You may consider it your wedding present to me.”
His face reddened. “Please do not make me repeat myself. I have told you how things are with the ton. True, I could tell the whole lot of them to go to the devil, and I did, when I married your mother—which I never regretted for one moment, by the way—”
“I know it, Papa.” Eleanor almost felt guilty for bringing up old pain for her father, but she was
determined to have a relationship with Colette.
Her father was adamant. “But I am looking out for my daughter now. This is a matter of your reputation and standing. You must keep your distance for appearance’s sake.”
“No, I mustn’t. When I marry Delville I will be a duchess.”
“Will you still insist on undermining your own rank by being called Mrs. Delville or such nonsense after you become a duchess?”
“Of course not. I will be Lady Pallensley. Then the ton may think whatever they like, but they will keep their mouths shut about it.”
“And if they do not?”
“Then we will cut them direct. We do not need their good opinion.”
“And what if you have a daughter? Will you let her associate with her aunt?”
“Of course I shall! My daughter will not be cowed by the ton’s prejudices.”
He smiled sadly. “Not if she has her mother’s wilfulness. But when you have a daughter, you will understand my position. Of course then it will be too late.”
“If you try to prevent Colette from coming here, I will be forced to persuade my new husband to relocate to France so I can be near her.”
“Ah, you are so stubborn. Very well. If you both wish it, invite her to the wedding. I shall just have to hope that your firstborn is a son. Things go better for the girls if they have a future duke for a big brother.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Papa. I knew you would see things my way.” It was enough for the moment. She would work on him later about Colette remaining at Pallensley.
He grunted. “Charming little extortionist.”
Eleanor was ecstatic. They would be able to marry and she would finally see her sister. Of course, it meant they would have to delay the wedding long enough to bring her over from France. But Eleanor almost forgot about the evening’s horrors as she calculated how quickly she might relocate Colette.
The men had been deep in conference in Rutherford’s parlour, and Rosamond brought the information that Tilly was doing as well as could be while in labour, but did not wish to have visitors. Eleanor had bid her goodnight and retired to her chamber under a cloud of lingering agitation from all the madness of the evening.
She sat down to read, but hoped that despite all the extra security measures, Delville might still find a way of sneaking in to see her.
So when a tap eventually sounded upon her door, it sparked a thrill of hope in her heart.
“A message for my lady.” The servant handed her the missive.
It was from Delville. Eleanor’s heart quickened with the thought that it must be bad news.
My dearest love,
Please forgive me for not telling you this in person, but circumstances are such that we will not have a private moment tonight. I do not have time to tell you all my heart feels, but I hope you know it by the same instinct that has always guided you to see into my soul.
Your father has consented to our marriage. He is a kind man and more gracious than I should be. How can I ever forgive myself, after what almost happened tonight? It is clear to me that Red Martha went after you and Rosamond because you are the two women closest to me. How she discovered our attachment I do not yet know, but I have my suspicions. Whatever the case, it is now apparent that if we marry, you will become more tempting prey for that serpent-woman. I cannot marry you until I have eliminated the risk.
I leave this night for London. You will be pleased that I have stopped acting in secret, and have finally enlisted the aid of my friends. Please stay safe at Blackwood under Rutherford’s care, and do not go off on any of your solitary rambles.
I will return to claim your hand, if you will still have me.
Until then, angel of my heart, I remain forever yours,
Delville
Eleanor hurled the letter upon the floor, stomped to the door and dashed out, flying down the stairs to find no one but the servants and the guards remained below. They informed her that Delville had already left.
Travelling at night—what a foolish act! He thought of everyone’s wellbeing but his own. It occurred to her that this was precisely the trait that had her staring at him dreamily earlier in the evening, but she was in no mood to mock her own inconsistency.
Infuriating man! Did he think he could possibly catch up with them? Eleanor shuddered and prayed that he did not. He was out to eliminate the risk. What did he mean? What if Red Martha killed him?
Chapter 34
It was not yet light when Delville arrived at the place where he assumed Red Martha would be. This was not her regular abode. She would never go there after what she had just done. But his investigative work had made him familiar with many of the madam’s various properties. There was a safe-house in a decent but unfashionable part of town—comfortable and inconspicuous. Delville was betting that she had ensconced herself there to weather any searches for her.
He was tempted to sneak in and boldly present himself in her bed chamber, but he wanted to set the proper tone for the meeting. This was not about covert means. It was about overwhelming official power.
The servant tried to refuse him, but Delville handed over his card and twenty pounds, and said, “Your mistress will not be happy, but she will definitely want to see me.”
As he waited in the small candle-lit parlour, he remarked upon how mundanely domestic everything seemed. It did not look any different than hundreds of respectable English rooms, scattered about London. Was it a matter of disguise, or did this criminal fiend fancy the same chintz and muted wallpapers as decent, everyday folk?
Red Martha entered, her face bare of makeup and her hair in a turban. She was not wearing any of her characteristic shades of scarlet, but a simple dove grey day dress and a wool shawl. It had been a hasty toilette, for she could not have arrived at the place much prior, but she carried herself with calm plausibility.
“How do you do, Mr. Delville?” Her voice was placid and matter-of-fact, not betraying the slightest hint of irritation or alarm at being visited by a strange man in the moments before dawn.
“I do exceedingly well, Mrs. Parish, considering the evening I have had.” Delville smiled just as though this were a civil call. “I hope I find you well.”
She did not flinch at this use of her real name—though it was not the one attributed to the owner of the home she currently occupied. “Certainly. Forgive me for so precipitously coming to the point, sir, but to what do I owe the honour of your call?”
As if she did not know. “I assume you refer to specifics. The general reason for my visit can be no mystery to you.”
She inclined her head in a gesture of patience and waited for him to continue.
Delville cleared his throat. “I surmise that the purpose for the attack upon Blackwood Manor, and the attempt to extract two of the lady guests there, was not just to make a show of force. You needed leverage to exchange for the little girl whom you wish to recapture.”
She pursed her lips. “Of course, I have no idea at all of the events that you refer to, sir. However, as you describe things, I think your explanation is probably sound. I imagine, however, that an added motive would be needed for such a brazen act. It seems like the sort of thing that a person would do when driven to the limits of patience—for example by someone who had made repeated intrusions into her business. However that is merely speculation.”
Of course she was admitting nothing. It was just as he had expected, but that did not matter. “It was, indeed, a brazen act, as you say. To intrude into the estate of a duke, and assault the dinner guests—who sported a deck of cards worth of noble titles among them…” Delville shook his head. “It confounds reason. However, my visit is not about recrimination. Let me come to the point.”
She inclined her head again. “Please do.”
“The child has value to you because of negotiations you were having with the guardian of her estate and person, who, lamentably, is also the heir to the whole lot of it, in the event of the child’s dea
th.” Delville looked at her face, not expecting any overt agreement from the cautious woman, but seeing a flash of understanding in her eyes.
He continued. “A generous estimate of the value of the estate is one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. I cannot imagine your successfully negotiating for more than ten percent of that.”
“Given the state of affairs you describe, I could hypothetically see a person coming around to fifteen, under the right circumstances.”
“However, under the very wrong circumstances that now exist, I sincerely doubt such a number would ever materialize.” Delville gave her a stare brimming with all the wrath he had been supressing and let it sink in for a full minute. She kept a cool demeanour, but when he knew he had made his point, he spoke again. “As I imagine that her guardian must be highly averse to the sort of trouble that enquiries from three dukes and a marquess would create for him, he will probably wish to drop the matter entirely.”
“Three dukes?”
With a degree of satisfaction that surprised him, Delville raised a single, supercilious brow. “Have you not heard? I am the Pallensley heir. But not to worry, I do not require formal address. Yet.”
“This child has very powerful friends. How fortunate for her. Though perhaps she might someday resent being sheltered from—lied to about all the hard truths of the world.” The momentary note of bitterness that had flickered into her voice was supressed, almost as quickly as it arose. “The guardian must have omitted to mention her connections to anyone of importance.”
“He knew nothing about it. Nonetheless, I can imagine that you are not very happy with him, at the moment.”
“If I knew him, I daresay I would not find him pleasing company.”
Delville emitted a cold laugh. “Charming understatement.”
She pursed her lips. “You said something about coming to the point.”
